Xaver
by egbkid
Summary: Fini. Xaver has no memores of Manticore. This is his story...
1. Xaver

Hello, I am egbkid. I have posted a few stories here before, four to be exact, the last which is yet to be completed as my Muse ran away for the summer. Well, my Muse is either back, or I found a new one. This story is called Xaver, it's about one of the X-5's that escaped that night, but has never been mentioned in the show. I started to write this a long time ago, probably in June, but as I said, my Muse went on vacation, so I deleted it. Well, here is the story. The plot is my own, but as for everything else, it belongs to Mr. Cameron, Mr. Eglee, and FOX, so, please do not sue me, for, as I have said before, I am but a poor Canadian. I hope you enjoy this new story from my befuddled head, bye for now,  
  
~egbkid  
  
  
  
XAVER  
  
  
  
~~  
  
My name is Xaver.  
  
I have no more memories,  
  
except that I must not be caught.  
  
By whom?  
  
I don't know.  
  
I can't remember why or when  
  
I started running, except  
  
I must not be captured by them.  
  
and be taken back there.  
  
I don't know where there is either.  
  
Just.  
  
My name is Xaver.  
  
~~ 


	2. first

~~  
  
My first memory is waking up in a cold ally. I was a kid and practically helpless. All I knew was my name, and only a first. Not much to go on. So, someone took me to the police, who said I was about ten, and they stuck me in an orphanage for a few days while they checked out the local hospitals, because I was found dressed in a hospital gown and oversized jacket.  
  
After about a week of searching, I was put in a foster home with three other kids. I remember they teased me, said I was a stiff. I didn't have any sense of humour, and obeyed everything that I was told to do. One day, they sneaked up behind me and saw my tattoo, the barcode on the back of my neck. They asked me if it was from a gang. I told them yes, because I couldn't remember where or when I got it. Then I showed them some of my self-defence techniques. After that, they didn't bother me anymore, sort of like they respected me. At least I had one happy month there.  
  
Then the pulse hit.  
  
~~ 


	3. post pulse

I'm sorry each part is so short, but unlike my other stories, where I sat in front of the computer and made them up as I went along, this one I am writing in a notebook first because I have little time to sit. Each part is about two or more pages in my notebook, but they are much smaller in type. Hope you are enjoying the story so far,  
  
~egbkid  
  
  
  
~~  
  
I never saw my social worker again after that June morning. All state children were abandoned, as my foster brother said. That's when it started. I had the feeling, rather the urge, to get away. Didn't know what from, still don't.  
  
I saw a doctor about my memory problem when I was in that first foster home. He said one little thing could one day cause all my memories to come crashing back. Well, that was ten years ago.  
  
After the Pulse, I took off out of Atlanta and ran towards Louisiana and New Orleans. It was a nice city, even after all the riots. I was doing pretty good there, they still had a halfway sensible policing system and foster care, so I got stuck back into the care of more people I didn't know. Luckily, it was a nice couple, who lived in what was called the French Quarter. I stayed there about six months. The entire country was in turmoil, but in New Orleans, life went on. Even though my foster parents lost everything in the banks during the Pulse, they still seemed happy. And so was I.  
  
Then I met him.  
  
~~ 


	4. Zackery

~~  
  
He was a blond boy about my age. Called himself Zackery. At the time, I had been in New Orleans about four months; in total it had been six months since I woke up that April morning in Atlanta with no memories. Anyway, I was in school, as I said, life went on in New Orleans. There were about thirty kids in my class already the day he walked in. The new boy, Zackery. No one really paid him much attention, because our class was big enough already, and he didn't pay us any attention. At recess that day, he sat on the steps of the school by himself. To me, he seemed out of place, like he belonged elsewhere.  
  
That day, I was playing basketball with a few others when I got this feeling that I was being watched. I turned and saw Zackery watching us, so I invited him to play. He quickly declined the offer and turned away to watch some of the younger kids play in the sandbox, so I figured he was just scooping out the playground or something. But then I felt his eyes on me again. Whenever I looked at him, he was always looking the other way, but I felt his eyes on me. It gave me the creeps, so after school, I stopped him.  
  
~~ 


	5. talk

~~  
  
He followed me out of the school, so I went around back to the playground. As we crossed the playground, he was about twenty paces behind me. There were a few other kids around, so I dawdled until they left, until it was just Zackery and me on the playground. I was on the monkey bars pretending to study. I did it often because I really liked it up there, I don't know why, I just did. He sat on a swing with a book, but I could feel his eyes on me. I quickly jumped down and ran over to Zackery, grabbing the chain of the swing.  
  
"Why are you following me?" I yelled.  
  
"What do you mean?" he asked calmly.  
  
"You've been following me around and staring at me all day. Why?" he sighed and stared at me. "What?" I asked.  
  
"You don't remember, do you?"  
  
"Remember what? I don't remember anything before six months ago!"  
  
"Two months." he whispered, "What happened to you during the other two months?"  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"I haven't seen you in eight months."  
  
"Excuse me? Who are you? I have never seen you before today!"  
  
"Syl was right, you did lose your memory."  
  
"Who is Syl?"  
  
"Our sister. I'm your brother, Zack."  
  
"I don't have any siblings, get the $^(& away from me, and stop following me!" I yelled, pushing him away. I turned to go back across the playground.  
  
"Wait!" he called, and for some reason I turned back to him.  
  
"What?"  
  
"You honestly don't remember? About where you grew up? Me, Max, Zane, Syl? Any of us?"  
  
"No! Who are Max and Zane? More brothers?"  
  
"A brother and a sister. You and Max were close; she would look up to you often. You don't know how you got the barcode tattoo on your neck?"  
  
I put my hand to my neck. My hair covered the mark, my foster mother wanted me to cut it, but I felt the need to cover the tattoo. "What do you know about that?" I was practically shouting.  
  
He turned and lifted his shaggy hair. "I have one too. So do Max, Zane, Syl Krit, Jondi, all of us!" he turned and looked at me again, I was amazed.  
  
"Why can't I remember?" I asked in a low voice. "Where do I come from? How come I know so much about martial arts and I can run fast, and see in the dark."  
  
"Maybe it's best if you don't remember." He said quietly. Then he turned and ran away, shouting, "I'll be back someday!"  
  
""Wait!" I yelled, running after him, but he jumped the fence and took off before I could catch up.  
  
The next day, he was not in school.  
  
~~ 


	6. run

~~  
  
Two months later, I was walking home from school when a black hummer passed me. Normally, it would not receive a second glance from me, although cars were not a norm since the pulse. But I saw one person in the passenger seat talking into a CB or something. I just got a gut feeling.  
  
I went home and did my homework, trying to ignore the feeling, but I couldn't. Four hours later, I slipped out of my bedroom window with only a backpack. I knew I would miss my foster parents, they were so nice, but I also knew I had to leave.  
  
I travelled a little farter north, learning about what happened to the country. I made up a story as to why I was alone. At ten years old, I told people I was orphaned in the post Pulse riots, it had happened to a lot of kids. Some created foster homes by hooking up with kids their own age and vying for sympathy from the parents, others joined gangs, but most just lived on the streets, trying their best to grow up sane. I was one of the latter.  
  
I moved from city to city, hitchhiking where there was traffic, just plain hiking the rest of the way. About six months after leaving the French Quarter, I found myself in New York City. Like New Orleans, it hadn't been hit hard by the Pulse, but the effects were still there. The city was huge, so many tall buildings, I was amazed. I decided I liked the city, but didn't want to live on the streets. Even though I could take on just about anyone I met, I didn't really want to draw attention to myself. So I decided to find myself a foster home.  
  
~~ 


	7. Jared

~~  
  
I started by scooping out the local schools. I wanted to find a kid who would be gullible and hopefully have gullible parents. I quickly found the perfect kid. His name was Jared, and he didn't seem to have many friends, that would make it easier to get close to him. I took a few days to observe him first, and then I decided to implement my plan.  
  
The next day, I went to his school playground just before recess. I noticed he would usually sit on the school steps and either talk to someone or watch the other kids play, so I planted myself there. When he came and sat beside me, I started a conversation.  
  
"Hello." I said casually.  
  
"Hey." He returned back.  
  
"You go to school here?"  
  
"Yeah, why, don't you?" he asked sarcastically. He gave me a strange look.  
  
"No, actually, I , um, just moved here. Uh, a few days ago." I made it sound like I was making up the excuse as I went along.  
  
"You're parents haven't enrolled you in school yet?"  
  
"I don't have parents. They died a while ago. You know, in the riots."  
  
"Really? Where did you move here from?" he asked, incredulous. I quickly thought of a city devastated by the Pulse.  
  
"San Francisco."  
  
"How did you get here?"  
  
"I hitchhiked. I started out about a month after the Pulse."  
  
"It took you a year to hitchhike across the country?" he sounded like he was getting sceptical.  
  
"Yeah, I did more hiking than hitching rides, you know, so few people have cars now."  
  
"Yeah, ours stopped working after the Pulse, but Dad's close to getting it working again. Oh no, I have to go!" he said as a bell rang behind us. "Will you be here at lunchtime?"  
  
"Yeah, I have nothing better to do."  
  
"Alright, bye!" he turned and ran up the steps. I smiled to myself. I knew it would be easy to get a roof over my head.  
  
~~ 


	8. stay

~~  
  
Three days later, Jared's parents invited me to stay. Just to make it sound right, I refused at first, then about a week after I first met Jared, I actually moved in. Jared's parents were really nice. They saw the old clothes I had from New Orleans, which had been nice at one time, and went and bought me more. I ended up sharing a room with Jared, but it didn't matter because he was such a heavy sleeper that I could probably put a cherry bomb next to his head and he would sleep through it.  
  
Jared and I were almost the same age. Since I didn't know my exact birth date, I made one up. I decided on March 17, 2000. When I told them that was my birthday, they said it was once a holiday called Saint Patrick's Day, before the Pulse.  
  
We became quite close. Jared's parents insisted that we all have dinner together each evening, and since extra-curricular activities were almost nil since the Pulse, it was an easy rule to follow.  
  
Jared's family was the longest I ever stayed in one place. I stayed for almost two years. It was Christmas time when I left. Actually Christmas Eve, three months from my thirteenth birthday.  
  
That day, we went as a family upstate to Jared's grandparent's house. Altogether, there were over twenty uncles, aunts and cousins. Since I had been with then the previous Christmas, as well as Easter and Thanksgiving, I sort of knew the family. On Christmas Eve, all the cousins and an uncle set out to get the tree, at about ten o'clock we set out. It was one of the happiest days of my life, but also the saddest.  
  
~~ 


	9. hoverdrones and Christmas trees

~~  
  
The uncle chosen that year was Jared's mom's younger brother. He was only twenty-five, so he was very playful and we were all close to him. Altogether, there were about ten of us heading out for the tree. It took us an hour to find the perfect one, and another half hour to get it chopped down, but by the time we were dragging it back home, we were all in a great mood, teasing each other and playing in the snow.  
  
Jared and I were the only two cousins that were living in the city at the time, so did the uncle, if I remember right, so at first us three didn't notice one of the new hover drones slowly going over the trees. We also didn't notice the other kids stop and stare at it. It was the uncle (I can't remember his name, but I think it started with an L or an I), who first realized the others had stopped. He turned and saw the hover drone watching us. Jared and I stopped when he did.  
  
"Well, I didn't know they employed those things way out here." He said softly.  
  
"What is it, Uncle?" one of the younger kids asked.  
  
"It's called a hover drone." He explained as it moved on. "they have started using them in the cities to keep an eye on people."  
  
The other children ooh-ed and ah-ed over the technology until it was out of site and Jared, Uncle and I managed to convince them to continue walking home with our tree.  
  
But for some reason, seeing that hover drone out there in the woods gave me the creeps. I tried to ignore the feeling, but I couldn't. And that night, I left the happiest home I ever had.  
  
~~ 


	10. Fur

~~  
  
I really miss New York, even now, seven years later. I loved that Christmas, and will always remember it. Although the name of the uncle escapes me, I remember him completely. He had a fiancée, too, but she stayed in the city that year. He was so nice to me, unlike one of the older uncles who wouldn't even acknowledge my presence neither Christmas that I had been there, or any other holiday, for that matter. Yet that Uncle I connected with. If I ever saw him again. . .  
  
After New York, I went west, towards the mountains. I felt drawn to them. I had seen pictures of the Rockies when I lived in my first foster home, and now I wanted to see them for real. I started hitch hiking as soon as I got to the highway. I ended up walking all the way to New Jersey, though. Just outside of New York State, I caught a ride with a woman who was taking her three kids from some small town in Jersey to Oklahoma City to stay with her sister. I travelled with them that far. When we got there, I left them and walked through the city. I never made it to the Rockies, because I liked Oklahoma and decided to stay.  
  
Since I was now almost thirteen, I decided not to find a foster home, but rather an apartment and a job. I found a place to stay via an abandoned building that some squatters lived in. There were no apartments available, so I sucked up to one of the tenants and he let me be his roommate. He was twenty and worked in a donut shop, but it was hard for me to find a job.  
  
A few days after moving in, I walked down the block to a delivery service. I begged the guy to give me a job despite my age, and he agreed because he figured I would have more energy than the older workers and therefore get more work done.  
  
I My roommate's name was Cristofer, but everyone called him Fur, because of his name, and I guess he once had hair that was very long, like fur. Fur and I were close, his day was longer than mine, so I would sit in the donut shop and listen to stories about Jake's life. Jake was the guy Fur worked with most days, he owned the store, so he would give me a donut and talk. The place was never very busy, so Fur and I would sit and listen. Jake had been a lot of places before he bought the donut shop, so he told us about his adventures.  
  
After about a year, I decided it was time to move on. Nothing scared me into moving this time, I was just bored. So I told Fur and Jake that I was going back to my parents, I had told them before that I had run away, then we said goodbye and I walked away from Oklahoma.  
  
~~ 


	11. revisited

~~  
  
After leaving Oklahoma, I continued my trek towards the Rockies, hitching rides here and there, but mostly walking and stopping to sleep in abandoned buildings. One night, I was bunked down in an old barn loft when I heard a noise below me. It sounded like a person walking in and out of the old stalls. I slowly walked over to the opening and peeked over, and saw a tall blond teenager looking around. I was big for my fifteen years, so I figured I could easily fight him I had to. I quietly watched as he went to the back of the barn, then I slid the ladder up and laid it in the hay beside me. I laid down beside it, figuring he couldn't getup, even if he knew I was here. Right.  
  
Five minutes later, he jumped through the opening. I was shocked! I quickly stood up and got ready for a fight, then I realised it was him.  
  
Zackery, from New Orleans. I had been shocked that he had been able to jump that high, then I remembered he had said he was my brother, therefore, I figured he must have the same abilities as I did, which included the capability to jump extremely high. Was posed to strike, but when I saw it was Zackery, I put my fists down, but I remained alert.  
  
"What do you want?" I asked.  
  
"Just checking up." He answered, looking around, "Nice place."  
  
""I'm just passing through." I said, sitting in the hay. He sat too.  
  
"What have you been up to these past four years?"  
  
"Here and there, New York, Oklahoma." I didn't want to go into specifics.  
  
"It's good that you're moving around. Keeps them busy trying to find us."  
  
"Who are 'they'?"  
  
"The people who created us. You still can't remember, can you?"  
  
"No, Zackery, I can't remember. You or any of these many brothers and sisters you claim I have."  
  
"I'm called Zack. Zackery was only for your school; sometimes I go by Michael, too. I don't think any of the others changed their names, except for Tinga. She goes by Peggy now."  
  
"What are my sibling's names? Where do they live?"  
  
"I can't tell you where they live, but there names: Max, Tinga, Brin, Zane, Ben Syl Krit, Jondi, those are just the ones who escaped with us, but also there was Eva, Jace and Jack, and lots more."  
  
"Wow, I come from a huge family."  
  
"We're not blood relatives."  
  
"Then what are we?"  
  
"You have to remember yourself. I can't tell you. I have told the others not to tell you anything, either." He stood up, and I followed.  
  
"But I don't know the others!" I yelled, he took a step towards the opening. "Don't go!"  
  
"I have to, but I'll be back." He jumped and I ran to the opening.  
  
"You said that five years ago!" I looked down at him.  
  
"I have to go. Good luck remembering, but you're better off forgetting." Then he ran out of the barn.  
  
"Zack! Wait!" I ran back into the loft and looked out the window in the direction he had ran, but I didn't see him, he was gone. I sat down in the hay, and for the first time ever, felt like crying. He had been the only link to my past. After about ten minutes, I stood up and climbed out the window up to the roof of the barn. I sat there for the rest of the night, trying to remember.  
  
~~ 


	12. bikes and loses

~~  
  
I tried to forget about Zack, but I couldn't. I continued walking, always trying to remember my past. When I met Zack, I had been in Colorado. I had been planning on stopping in Denver, but now I decided against it and continued walking. Finally, I stopped in a city called Cheyenne in Wyoming. It would have been a nice city, if not for the riots and the Pulse, as well as the police that kept close tabs on everybody. I was starting to have a harder time going from place to place because of the police posting checkpoints in and out of every city, as well as sectoring off most cities. Luckily, I still had my ID from Oklahoma.  
  
I had no problems getting into Cheyenne, and I found a roommate in a squatter named Taylor. He was alright, but a little strange. I decided to get a job delivering, since I already had experience, it wasn't difficult to get the job, either, because most people my age were starting to work, and this was usually where they started.  
  
Soon, I was making good money and was able to afford my own bike. That way, I didn't have to pay my boss any money to rent a company bike. I didn't really like Cheyenne, there were an awful lot of army-types walking around, and they gave me the creeps. But I didn't want to move again, so I stayed almost a year and a half. Eventually, I had to move. Taylor got himself into trouble and we ended up losing most of our stuff, including my bike. So I moved out of the building and into another with a guy called Rev. He was really religious, and a lot stranger than Taylor in some ways, so after staying with Rev for three months, I left Cheyenne and continued towards the Rockies.  
  
~~ 


	13. Air Force

~~  
  
Coming out of Cheyenne, I passed an old Air Force base. It didn't seem like there were a lot of planes around, but then again, it was Post Pulse America, there wasn't much of anything around. The Air Force base was populated, though. I saw vehicles, hummers which I hadn't seen in over seven years, since my New Orleans days. I got an odd feeling from seeing those hummers, actually from seeing the entire place.  
  
The place was surrounded by woods, and only a small road passed by it, at one time you could tell the road had been a main route out of Cheyenne. The front gates made it look like an Air Force base, so I wouldn't have given it a second thought as I walked by. If it hadn't been so heavily guarded. I got curious, so along with that odd feeling, I decided to walk past, then double back through the woods. When I found the perimeter fence in the woods, I was surprised to find it was extremely tall, and ad barbed wire at the top. The woods continued on the other side of the fence, but there was a small clearing around it on both sides. Probably so no one could climb a tree to get over it. There was a difference in the woods on the other side, that difference was the paths that wound their way into the trees, as well, a lot of the smaller vegetation looked like it had been kept trimmed to an extent.  
  
I stayed close to a large tree I could hide behind and looked beyond the fence to see if there was anything going on. A few minutes later, I could hear two guards walking through the path. When they came around the bend of the path so I could see them, I was surprised that they were my age. They were dressed in grey t-shirts and pants that were spotted so they would blend into the trees better. The male's hair was cropped short, and the female's hung in a braid below her waist. They stopped by the fence and looked up and down the perimeter, and then she took a whistle and blew three sharp blasts. Suddenly, about two dozen children ran from the woods and lined up in perfect formation at attention. The children were dressed in army fatigues and didn't look more then ten or twelve years old. And they all carried a rifle. The older guy yelled out a bunch of numbers, and in turn, each of the children answered, like some sort of roll call. Then he yelled out some orders, they changed formation and marched off into the woods.  
  
I was amazed, and terrified. Children, in the army? I sat down behind the tree and it took me almost ten minutes until I got the nerve to move back to the road. During those ten minutes, two sentries walked past me beyond the fence. They were about nine, and had the creepiest eyes. Black and uncaring.  
  
Whenever I think of seeing that place, I get a strange feeling. Like I know more about that place than I remember. Maybe I saw that place before I lost my memory. Maybe I come from there or something, but I can't imagine myself being like those children. And when I was their age, I was living in New York.  
  
When I got to the road, I ran. Faster than I have ever ran before, and I've never run as fast since. When I came to an intersection, I went north instead of west, but it didn't matter, because eventually I got to and crossed the Rockies. I didn't feel safe from that place until the mountains were between it and me.  
  
~~  
  
A.N. The Air Force Base, is, of course, Manticore. The two soldiers his age are fellow X5's and the group of children they had X6's. The two sentries that he saw that "had the creepiest eyes. Black and uncaring." Were two X7's. When I saw them on the show, this is what their eyes were like to me. When the show airs, Max is about twenty, and at this time, Xaver is about three years away from that age, therefore I took away three years from the other children as well. The X6's looked about fifteen in the show, so at this time they are twelve, and the X7 group looked about twelve, so they became eight. I did not include the X8 children (Bugler) because at this time they would be about five and probably yet to be allowed out into the woods by themselves.  
  
~egbkid 


	14. nightmares

~~  
  
I was still affected by seeing those kids for a long time. Until I was safely on the other side of the Rocky Mountains, I had nightmares. Bad nightmares. I started to go with out sleep, because of them, but eventually my body would give out, and the nightmares would come.  
  
I would see those children, and others. They were being punished in cruel ways. Made to march through pouring rain and the hot sun. They performed experiments on the children, like breaking their bones purposely, and then seeing how long it would take to heal. Then they would train them in the ways of the soldier, about discipline and to be non-emotional, because to show emotions meant weakness. When they were inside the buildings, you could hear screams from the basement, and the sound of marching feet echoed in the corridors. The scariest part of the nightmares was seeing Zack's and my own faces among the marching children. Before I could remember.  
  
Was that place in Wyoming where I came from? Is that why Zack said I would be better off forgetting? Or was it just triggered by what I saw and what Zack told me. . . I wish I could remember.  
  
Once I crossed the mountain range, the nightmares stopped, as if my brain was telling me that I was safe now. So I took off south, sort of followed the mountains down to almost Mexico, then back up around to San Francisco. I never stopped in a city for more than two months, but it took me almost two years to make the circuit. I stopped in San Francisco longer than the other cities. It had been devastated by the Pulse and a lot was going on, but I stayed six months anyway.  
  
It was a few days after my chosen twentieth birthday when I decided to move on, and it took me two months for me to get to my next stop. Seattle.  
  
~~ 


	15. needle

~~  
  
It was a beautiful sunny day when I hit Seattle. I overheard two people commenting on the fact that it was actually sunny, which confused me, until the next day, that is. For the next week it poured or was overcast the entire day. After squatting in a tumble down building for that week, I decided it was time to get a job and a place to live. I went to another sector with no problems from the police, thankfully. I found myself in sector five, in front of a delivery service called Jam Pony. I went inside and with a few well placed 'sirs' and my experience from other cities, I easily landed a job. The boss was sort of a jerk, but I could live with that.  
  
After my first day, I needed to relax. Most of the other people at Jam Pony seemed to be heading towards the bars, but I never really fit in with that type of crowd, so I decided to do a bit of so-called sightseeing. The first thing I saw was the Space needle. Heights always relaxed me, so I climbed. I walked out onto the platform part of the needle and sat down to think. I hadn't seen Zack in a long time, almost five years. Soon time for him to pop up again. As I sat, the Air Force Base came back to me. I gave me the creeps, still, and it was almost three years since I had seen it. Would that place haunt me forever? I wish I had a memory. Who were these siblings Zack had told me about? Max, Krit, Syl, Zane? Where were they? I soon found myself deep in thought, broke by a voice.  
  
"Xaver?"  
  
~~ 


	16. Max

~~  
  
I turned and saw a beautiful dark haired girl about my age standing behind me. I guess I must have been really out there if I hadn't heard her walk up.  
  
"Xaver, is that your name?" she asked.  
  
"Do I know you? You must work at Jam Pony." I thought I remembered seeing her during the day.  
  
"Actually, I do, but you don't know me from there." I tried to match up all the faces that I had met over the past ten years, but I couldn't remember her.  
  
"I'm really sorry," I said, "but I don't recognize you."  
  
"Max." she came and sat down next to me.  
  
"Max. You mean, you're the Max that Zack told me about. But he said you weren't allowed to go near me. He said he told everyone else not to talk to me."  
  
"He didn't tell me that. He wouldn't even tell me where everyone else was."  
  
"Me neither, because I can't remember."  
  
"What do you mean?" she asked.  
  
"I can't remember, any of my siblings, where I was born, anything."  
  
"Really?"  
  
"Yes. Have you seen Zack recently?"  
  
"Zack is gone." She sadly looked away from me, towards the horizon.  
  
"Oh." I didn't know what to say. Obviously she had known him a lot better than I had. Suddenly she turned back to me and was smiling.  
  
"Hey, come on, I want to introduce you to a friend of mine." I agreed and followed her off the Space Needle.  
  
We went on her motorbike to a huge building in another sector. The high- rise district. I loved riding the bike, why hadn't I though of saving up for one? As we walked into the building, I mentioned it.  
  
"You must have saved a long time for that bike."  
  
"Um, yeah, something like that." She said, pressing the up button on the elevator.  
  
"It must have been very expensive, I guess you don't let other people ride it much."  
  
"Nope," she shot over her shoulder as I followed her into the elevator. Max pressed the button that was marked PH. "It's my baby. I try to keep it in good shape, kind of hard to get parts. You know."  
  
"Yeah, I had a bike once, but I lost it." I didn't mention that it had only been a bicycle.  
  
"Really, how?"  
  
"My roommate got into it with some bad folks. Took all our stuff."  
  
"Bummer"  
  
"Yeah." The elevator stopped at the too floor of the building and the doors opened.  
  
"Let's go." She said, walking into a small hallway. We walked up to a door and she knelt down to the knob, digging something out of her pocket, it was a lock pick.  
  
"Wouldn't it be easier just to knock?" I asked.  
  
"Nope." Max answered as the door clicked open. "Besides, if I did, Logan would wonder what was wrong with me. Hey Logan!" she raised her voice to a yell.  
  
"In here!" a voice called back.  
  
"I bought someone to meet you" she spoke loudly so he could hear, but didn't bother to go down the hall to meet him.  
  
"Just a minute, I'll be right there." I thought I recognized the voice, but6 I wasn't sure. That's right, the voice reminded me of Jake, the way he told his stories to Fur and me back in Oklahoma. A few seconds later, a man walked out of a room and down the hall.  
  
"Logan, I'd like you to meet my brother, Xaver." I heard Max say, but I was to amazed to speak.  
  
"We've met." Logan said, as he pulled me into a hug.  
  
~~ 


	17. memories

Here's the last chapter in Xaver, hope you liked the story.  
  
~egbkid  
  
~~  
  
"Xaver was sort of adopted by my sister." Logan explained to Max, "When you left, she was heartbroken, Jared was quite upset. Too. You were his best friend."  
  
"I had to leave. That day we saw the hover drone in the woods freaked me out."  
  
"So Xaver lived with your family for over two years?" Max was still amazed that her friend turned out to be my long lost 'uncle'. We had sat in his living room for hours, just talking, about where I had been, what Max remembered from our childhood, just about everything under the stars.  
  
"That place you saw, do you remember where it was?"  
  
"I could never forget, Max. It was outside Cheyenne. Wyoming."  
  
"It had to be Manticore. What else could it have been?" Max had told me all about where we had grown up, and bit by bit, I was regaining my memories of that time. All of them, both the good and bad. I remembered the night we escaped, I ran into Cheyenne with Zack, then we separated. I still couldn't remember what I did after that, or how I woke up in Atlanta. I would probably remember soon, there was more coming back every minute.  
  
So, now I have met my sister and hooked up with my 'uncle' of long ago. Maybe I'll stay in Seattle awhile. Maybe I'll even hook up with Jared again. For now, I have a lot to remember, but I have good friends to help me.  
  
~~ 


	18. Eplogue

~~  
  
My name is Xaver.  
  
Just Xaver.  
  
At one time, I had no memories.  
  
Now I know.  
  
I'm from Manticore.  
  
They are the people I am running from.  
  
Before I didn't know, I was alone.  
  
Now I know, I have many siblings.  
  
And lots of friends.  
  
Now I know. . .  
  
Everything.  
  
Including.  
  
My name is Xaver.  
  
~~ 


End file.
